


Don't Mess With Clara!

by alabasterblaze



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, Comedy, F/M, Gen, poor grammar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1902228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alabasterblaze/pseuds/alabasterblaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble based on this au http://perfectclara.tumblr.com/post/90703379008/au-where-some-wanker-hurts-clara-in-a-date-or </p><p>Don't mess with Clara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Mess With Clara!

It was a average date. His name was Jeff, he liked music and such. He left a bad taste in her mouth though. He was a tad bit self obsessed. He kept on yammerin' on about his perfect car he had and her thoughts kept drifting to "I wonder where the TARDIS will take the Doc and me next..." or "I wonder if Angie did her homework tonight." Even, "I might have to speak with the head teacher tomorrow about some rowdy students..."

Ugh- he fixed his hair again. She's seen the Master, and not even _he_ was this full of himself. 

"Oh my stars." She nodded and sipped her wine thoughtfully, looking interested, she didn't want to hurt the guy per-say just make him shut up. She would wait for the food and eat it (Polenta with Manchego sauce) and tell him, "Oh we should be friends." And leave it at that. 

"I've got the most perfect motor bike." He said. "Gets up to one-hundred and thirty!" 

"One hundred and thirty?" She drawled on, more bored than ever. 

"Maybe I can take you on it?" He hinted, the _'take you'_  played up to stress a sexual matter. She choked a tad bit on the wine she was becoming so quick to consume. "No thanks-" She quickly spit out of her, "I prefer a slower speed." She minced her words, but this got sexual way to quick for Clara's standards. She liked her men a tad bit less tacky. Even a bow tie wasn't as tacky as _this_...  
  


Ugh.  Ugh, a million times ugh. 

He fixed his hair again. 

She pretended to play up the choking bit a tad bit more. "I have to get the toilets." She quickly said, no breath in her tone. She played dead before and fooled Cybermen. A plain man shouldn't be _so_ hard.  She made her way to the restroom and breathed deeply, making sure he got a handle on herself before composing a plan to escape monotony. She texted her Dad, who'd been blowing up her phone with what she perceived to be the next wave of his tin-foil hat brigadier-ing. 

She breathed and washed her hands placing cool water on the nape of her neck and shoulders cooling herself off in general. 

Walking out of the restroom she saw Jeff standing up and looking more alive than he'd been all evening. "What took you so long?" He pressed.   
  


"Nearly died by wine inhalation? Catch up?" She offered helpfully. 

"I was talking." He whined like a baby. Ugh.

"Well, excuse me for not dying in the middle of a conversation." She waved her arms uselessly.

"I wanted to discuss my motor bike." He was really thirty-going-on-three wasn't he?

She nodded. "Yeah, maybe we could discuss jobs or politics? Or be adults, not flippin' kids?" She blatantly put out there. She had zero time for this. She could be planning lessons right now... she could be doing laundry. She was so bored that scrubbing that little patch  into of tile behind the toilet at home seemed like a good time right then and there.

"Look-" he said coming down on her like a swarm of Daleks. Sudden personality change. "Quit being a posh cow and listen to me Clara!" She too a step back and turned right for the bathroom. 

He slumped a bit. 

She slammed the stall door and thunk it out.  He needed shocked and she needed a ride out of here since he insisted he drive her in his damn car. She thought fast. She thought clever. She _was_ Impossible Girl wasn't she?

  * **[text] bail me out doctor. date gone wrong, called** **me a posh cow. need ride home?**
  * **[text] oh god. be there quickly.**



She slammed the lock screen back on and walked out, told the waitress she would like her bill and tossed the girl a 40 pound tip to spite her own fiances and to show gratitude because the food was good at the very least- it's a shame she didn't have time or the social energy to stay by herself and try some of the souffle... 

"You just can't walk out on me!' He screamed. 

"Watch me-" Her eyes as deadly as pit vipers. 

And if by fate she heard the tell tale sound of the TARDIS materialising. She stomped off and out of the restaurant, forgetting her coat, but whatever. She had her wallet. And her dignity. 

The Doctor stuck his face out and questioned, "Love, who's the wanker?" She pointed and got in the TARDIS and got one of the Doctor's coats, the nice black one with the red lining, it was warm and smelled like him. 

"You there-" She heard Jeff say, "Clara!" The effort to pry her away from the Doctor he reached out at her. She slapped him.

"Stay away from us Jeff." She said. 

"Yeah, don't mess with Clara, you ain't worthy tae lick the tip of her boot."

"Holy-shit eyebrows!" Jeff was looking at both of two peoples knitted very cross eyebrows and was taken aback. And paralyzed. The sight of The Oncoming Storm and The Woman Born to Save him's twin glared was most likely enough to eradicate any evil in the universe.

So they just stared at him for an hour until he dissolved into tears and ran away to that car of his.

The two of them dissolved into tears of laughter.

"Love, ya look hungry- how about we go make food in the TARDIS kitchens and play that one band ya like- what's it called Vampires on the Weekend?"

"Vampire Weekend." 

"That's the one."

They walked off and Jeff laid forgotten on Clara's mind.

fin.


End file.
